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BLUE GRASS BALLADS
Then Lucie truly promised me
She'd love me evermore, And wait beside the Tennessee,
And sing along its shore, Till I came back from toil and strife,
On Fortune's changeful sea, To claim, forever, for my wife,
My dark-eyed Lucie Lee.
IN MISSISSIPPI WOODS.
Some blue spots dashed with springtime haze,
Seen thro' magnolia trees and bays;
The emerald green of tall pine tops, A laggard breeze, to bend them, stops;
A crimson splash of maple bloom,
A scent of " sweet shrub's " soft perfume,
The snow of dogwood, hiding low,
The lazy call of a loafing crow;
The mock-bird's laugh, that sneering rings Because an humbler songster sings;
Of sun and shade a perfect day,
In southern March like northern May.
We rambled there—sweet Belle and I— And heard the forest laugh and cry. In maiden fancy, bright and free, She thought the deep old woods a sea.